


Love At First Aid

by respoftw



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff and Crack, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non SHIELD AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:46:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3817684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz may be a little bit in love with the new first aider.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love At First Aid

It had started innocently enough.

It had been a normal Tuesday morning in the lab of Coulson Consolidated.  Fitz had bought the biscuits so it was Jemma’s turn to make the tea.  As worried as he had been by the scream of pain that came from their little kitchen area in the back corner of their shared lab, Fitz will always look back on Jemma’s scalding incident with fondness.

It was, after all, the reason that he first came into contact with Mack.  Alphonso Mackenzie, first aider extraordinaire.

Fitz had been able to do nothing but stare in wonder as Mack had swooped into their lab in all his vest wearing, oil stained, muscle rippling glory to save the day (or run Jemma’s hand under the tap as the case may be).

Ignoring poor Jemma for the rest of the afternoon while he grilled Skye from the IT department about the new first aider gleaned him the information he wanted.

Alphonso Mackenzie (goes by Mack), age 44 (and looking damn good for it), single (hallelujah!), sexuality unknown ( _but_ Skye had noticed he had exceptionally well cared for cuticles), newly moved to town, recently started as a mechanic down in Coulson Consolidated’s garage. 

The garage that Fitz had been absolutely forbidden to visit since Coulson had banned him from the company cars ever since that little incident with Lola.  (Fitz still insists that it would be cooler if the car could fly but apparently they’re not MI6 and Fitz isn't Q.)

That left Fitz with only one option.

He needed an excuse to visit first aid.

*

Fitz was now challenged with the conundrum of how best to go about attracting the attention of his hot first aider.

_Actually_ injuring himself was out, obviously.  Even if he wasn’t deathly afraid of blood and pain, purposefully harming himself just to get a chance to talk to Mack and suss him out was a little extreme. 

Although he retained the right to revise that opinion at a later date if necessary.  Needs must, after all.

It seemed like a wonderful source of serendipity then, when he spotted the cream scones from last Friday sitting in a Tupperware container on their kitchen bunker.

He could pretend that he’d eaten one and the spoiled cream had upset his stomach.

It was perfect.  All he’d have to do is strategically place the crumb filled container beside his desk (with the manky scones squirrelled away some place undiscoverable), groan a little bit and Jemma was sure to jump to the conclusion that Fitz wanted her to.  She’d probably go and get Mack herself, providing a further layer of cover to Fitz’s nefarious plans.

Plan made, Fitz opened the Tupperware container.  Only to be greeted by the heavenly smell of jam and cream.  They certainly didn’t smell like they had gone off.  Maybe it had been cool enough in the lab that they had managed to last?  Breathing in the smell, with his mouth watering Fitz saw no harm in actually eating one of the scones.

Jemma wasn’t to know that they were OK.  His plan would still work and he’d get delicious sconey goodness.  What could go wrong?

*

“Fitz, you’re looking a little green. Is anything the matter?”

Fitz groaned as he tried to lift his head from where it was lying on the desk.  All plans of faking a stomach ache were gone from his head as he tried to keep from throwing up all over Jemma’s flowery blouse.

A cool soft hand rested against his head as Jemma took his temperature.

“Oh, Fitz! You’re burning up. You need to get home and in bed. I’ll go and call a first aider.”

Fitz panicked at the thought as Jemma ran to the phone to page the first aider on call.

Mack couldn’t see him like this! He was only supposed to see _pretend_ sick Fitz.  _Actual_ sick Fitz felt all clammy and knew that sweat had probably started to pool on his face.  This was definitely not the first impression he wanted to make on Mack.  (Well, second really – but he preferred to forget the open mouthed staring that was their first meeting.)

He tried to shift himself from where he was slumped over the desk but his stomach protested the movement and it was all he could do not to lose his lunch.

Fitz must have spaced out for a moment as the next thing he knew he was blinking up at Mack's gorgeous face.

“Hey there buddy. Dr Simmons says you're not feeling well?”

Fitz whined in embarrassment at Mack seeing him like this. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to be fake sick. He had moisturised today, dammit and Mack should have been taking in the view of a clear skinned, bright eyed Fitz, not kneeling over a pasty, sweat flushed Fitz. Fitz would have begun his wooing. By showing how stoic and brave he was in the face of illness. That was sure to impress a first aider. Instead he was whining and moaning as his guts cramped.

Mack was frowning at him. _Frowning!_ No, he should always be smiling. He had the most amazing smile.

Fitz involuntarily shifted closer as he saw the corners of Mack's mouth twitch up. He barely had time to register what a bad idea that was before he found himself heaving up on the floor. Right where Mack was kneeling.

_Fuck. He'd actually thrown up on him._

Fitz was mortified. Not for the first time in his life, Fitz pondered that the person who could manage to both throw up and not cry while doing so should be burned at the stake for witchcraft. Streams of apologies and sobs poured out of his mouth as Mack gently rubbed his back.

“Easy Turbo. I'm signing off on you going home. You get some rest and feel better. Don't worry about me. These are work overalls, no harm done.”

*

As Jemma tucked him into bed, lecturing him over something he was too out of it to listen to, bucket placed strategically beside him, Fitz could only think how amazing Mack had been. The care and gentleness Mack had shown the sweaty unattractive guy who puked over him only made Fitz more certain that he needed to get to know Mack.

It was time for a Plan B.

*

Fitz ended up being off work for a full week before he felt well enough to return.

On the plus side, an entire week of having nothing to do meant he had come up with a fool proof plan to get the first aiders attention.

A headache.

It was perfect. No one could medically prove whether or not you had a headache but it would give him an in. He would be able to interact with Mack. He could make a new, better, first impression.

No longer would he be weird-starry-mouth-breather or flushed-sweaty-puker Fitz. He'd be suave-manfully-struggling-with-a-headache-but-still-completely-charming Fitz.

His expectations for his new approach soared when he got to work only to find an overly caffeinated Skye at his lab station eager to share the latest gossip with him.

It was confirmed. Mack was gay. ( _See, I told you that I'm never wrong! It's all in the cuticles._ )

Apparently Lance from legal had been overheard teasing Mack about his ex who went by the not at all feminine name of Tim.

The game was afoot.

*

Fitz shifted nervously from foot to foot as he waited in the first aid room, having pressed the call button that would send for someone to administer some much needed first aid to him. Jemma had been singularly unsympathetic when he informed her that he had a headache and needed to go to first aid. Fitz put it down to the fact that he may have vomited on her when she drove him home last week and resolved to make stovies for her tonight. He'd yet to see anyone resist the power of his stovies.

Maybe he should make some for Mack? No, he dismissed the idea immediately. That would be weird. Who makes food for a virtual stranger? He'd best stick to his current plan.

Fitz pulled on his best pained yet brave face as he heard the door swing open.

Mack's eyebrows raised in surprise as he walked into the room.

“Dr Fitz? Glad to see you back at work. Are you feeling better?”

Fitz tried not to choke on his own tongue. _Oh my God, Mack knew his name!_

“Y-yes. Thank you. I'm 100% better. Feeling great, in fact!”

Mack looked amused as he pointedly looked around the first aid room.

“Oh – shit – no! I mean, no. I'm not better. I mean, I am. I'm not vomiting any more which is great. Sorry again about that by the way. But I'm sore. My head! Is sore. I have a headache.”

_Smooth, Fitz._

Mack's eyes twinkled distractingly as he stepped closer and laid a hand over Fitz's forehead. Fitz pressed closer into the touch. He had no idea what Mack was doing but anything that meant that those large strong hands were touching him was perfectly OK in his book. Fitz had expected the hands to be rough. Calloused from working with engines all day. It was a pleasant surprise to find they were smooth. Skye was right, Mack did have incredible cuticles.

“Hmmm. You know, I can't actually give out any pain medication. Honestly, I think the best thing would be for you to lie down for a bit. We have a bed just behind that curtain.”

Fitz barely managed to keep his grin from splitting his face wide. This was going _so_ much better than he ever imagined it would.

“Yes! Bed would be great!”

“Fantastic. Well, I'll turn the light out, put the do not disturb sign on the door and leave you to it. I hope you feel better soon, Dr Fitz.”

Before Fitz could process the displeasing turn of events Mack was out the door and Fitz was standing in darkness.

_Well. That could have gone better._

He slumped on to the narrow bed and began to plot Plan C.

*

Fitz's job was very hands on.

He worked with a lot of dangerous materials and although the rule book said that every workplace accident needed to be reported, in reality it didn't happen.

If Fitz made a report every time he nicked himself or burned himself, Coulson Consolidated would need to hire about a thousand more Melinda's to complete the paperwork. As it was, the Health and Safety officer already considered Fitz's department to be her arch nemesis and Fitz was more than a little terrified of Melinda so he tended not to make a big deal of his little work related mishaps.

So the fact that Fitz was willing to risk Melinda's wrath just to spend a bit of time with Mack is not something to be sniffed at.

Fitz resolves to call first aid the next time he hurts himself at work. There's no way that Mack would be able to fob Fitz off in that scenario. He'd have to clean and dress Fitz's wound. Fitz may have had a few incredibly work inappropriate fantasies of Mack pulling him into his lap as he tenderly bandaged him up. Voice breaking as he begged Fitz to never put himself in such danger again.

Fitz shivers in anticipation. Which causes him to accidentally brush the soldering iron against the fingertips of his other hand.

He hisses distractedly and put his fingers in his mouth as he moves to go and run them under the tap for a minute. This sort of thing happens all the time. Jemma keeps telling him wear his safety gloves when he solders but they're too bulky. His work is too delicate to be bothering with them. Besides, the solder barely touched him. He doubts they'll even blister.

He's barely started to turn the tap before he jumps back. What is he doing? This is what he's been waiting for. An injury. A wound that Mack can tend!

“I'm off to first aid. Not sure when I'll be back”, he calls over his shoulder to Jemma on his way out the door. He chooses to ignore the exasperated roll of her eyes. _She's been acting so strangely lately...I really should make those stovies for her._

_*_

Mack's laughter is the most amazing sound Fitz has ever heard. It's deep, rumbling and strangely melodic. Fitz doesn't even care that Mack is laughing _at_ him, he just knows that he needs to hear this sound forever.

“Seriously Turbo? You called first aid for this?” Mack gestures disbelievingly at Fitz's slightly red fingertips as he finally manages to catch his breath and stop laughing.

Fitz sticks his chin out determinedly. “Yes. I'm injured. I need first aid. You're the first aider so...y'know..get first aiding!”

“I had no idea you were so delicate.”

Mack's low, smouldering words combined with the soft brush of Mack's hands gathering up Fitz's own is enough to draw a gasped moan out of Fitz.

“M'not delicate.” Fitz felt the need to protest as his knees weakened at the sensation of Mack pulling Fitz's hand closer.

Fitz's eyelids fluttered as he felt Mack's warm breath ghost across his fingertips.

_Oh my God. Was he going to....? Is he about to.....? He is!_

Mack was opening his mouth, ready to suck Fitz's poor fingertips into the hot wet space when the door to the first aid room burst violently open.

Fitz's distressed whine was thankfully swallowed up by the chaos and noise of an Amazonian blonde woman dragging a heavily bleeding patient into the room.

Mack's eyes were full of apologies as he stepped away from Fitz.

“You good, Dr Fitz? I should probably..”

“Um yeah. Yeah. Thanks Mack.”

Fitz slunk out the room as Mack rushed to help his colleague apply pressure to Koenig from accounting's wound.

_Well. At least, Koenig isn't sitting on his lap._

*

The next few days had been hectic as Fitz worked around the clock to perfect a detonation device for the latest Coulson Consolidated weapon.

He hadn't had a chance to visit the first aid room again but he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Mack. If Koenig hadn't bloody well chosen that moment to fall down the stairs then something would have _definitely_ happened with Mack. He's sure of it.

As soon as he finishes his work on the tech and passes it over to his team to test he's flying out of the lab on his way to the first aid room. He'll push the call button and this time, when Mack turns up, no more excuses. He's just going to ask Mack out. Straightforward and honest.

He paces the room, practising his speech in his head.

The door opens and Fitz whirls around to blurt out “You're not Mack.”

It's the same blonde from the other day who is now looking Fitz with barely concealed amusement. “Nooo. I'm Bobbi. I'm one of the first aiders and this is the first aid room. How can I help you?”

“Where's Mack?”

Bobbi sighs. “He's out on a pick up. Coulson's car broke down on the highway.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, Fitz, that's your name right? Just go up to him at lunch and ask him out. Stop hogging the first aid room.”

Bobbi drops her bombshell and storms out the room leaving Fitz gaping like a fish. How come he never thought about approaching Mack in the canteen? I mean, granted, he and Jemma tend to eat in the lab kitchen area but still....that would have made way more sense.

Right, new plan. Tomorrow. Lunch time. Fitz was going to ask Mack out.

*

Mack was gonna kill Bobbi.

“What do you mean you told him just to ask me out?”

“Come on Mack. It was getting ridiculous. Someone needed to say something.”

Mack absolutely does not pout. He knows that she has a point. There was only so long Mack could feign ignorance as to the real reason for Fitz's visits but it had been _fun_. Fitz and his flimsy excuses to see him had become the best part of Mack's day. And Bobbi should have in no way butted into this.

He's saved from answering when his first aid pager goes off.

**911 Lab 2A Ambulances on their way**

Mack barely registers Bobbi reaching for her own pager as he tears off towards Lab 2A. Fitz's lab.

As he reaches the science floor, having taken the stairs three at a time he almost crashes as he sees the smoke streaming out of the lab.

Tearing open the door he frantically searches for Fitz in the chaos. He sees Jemma, soot stained but uninjured kneeling on the floor next to a prone figure.

_Fitz!_

Mack skids to a stop next to them demanding to know what happened.

Jemma stutters and stammers through an explanation about one of the lab assistants fumbling a prototype so it rolled away and fell to the floor. A prototype that promptly exploded. Blowing Fitz, who was nearest to where it fell, back against the wall.

Mack rummages through Fitz's curls and his hand comes away bloody.

_OK, head injury. He can deal with this._ A quick check over the rest of Fitz shows no other problems. _He's breathing. His pulse is strong. He'll be fine._

Mack makes this his mantra as he watches the paramedics load Fitz on to a stretcher. He chants the same three sentences in his head as he holds Fitz's hand in the ambulance.

It's still a huge relief when the doctor assures him that he's right.

Fitz is breathing. His pulse is strong. Fitz is fine.

*

Fitz makes a pained noise as he blinks awake.

“Easy, Turbo. That was quite a knock on the head you took.”

He's in a hospital bed. Mack is sitting on a chair watching over him. Fitz gets the terrible feeling that he's missed something quite important.

“Mack? Wha'?”

“You know, I think blowing yourself up just to spend some time with me was taking things a little too far.”

Mack is smiling at him fondly but Fitz is still having a bit of trouble following what the hell is going on. Blown himself up? He would never go that far just to see Mack. How dare Mack suggest that he would! Wait a minute, how did Mack know Fitz had been faking needing first aid just to spend time with him?

Mack's laugh crashes over him. “It might have been the garbled apologies when you threw up on me that time. You kept saying that this wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to be really sick. You were supposed to be fake sick and also that I should never frown. I should always be smiling.”

_Holy shit, he had said all that out loud?_

“Yep.”

_Fuck, he said that out loud as well?_

“Afraid so buddy.”

Fitz flushed in embarrassment. Oh God, Mack must have though he was an idiot.

“I thought it was cute. I think you're cute.”

Fitz huffs out a laugh that turns into a wince as the movement causes his head to throb.

“Easy, Fitz. You scared me y'know?”

“M'sorry.”

“Well luckily the doctors say you can be discharged today. You just need someone to be with you for the next 24 hours to make sure there are no complications from your concussion.”

Fitz nods. He can ask Jemma. She's been much nicer to him since he made her stovies at the weekend.

Mack interrupts his thoughts. “Don't suppose you need the help of a first aider?”

Fitz smiles.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr: [fitzheartmack](http://fitzheartmack.tumblr.com)


End file.
